


A week or more of drarry drabbles

by Saraste



Series: A July of Drabbles [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, Wordcount: 100
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-06-24 18:04:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 2,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19728922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saraste/pseuds/Saraste
Summary: WARNING: ZOMBIE-AU AHEAD. READ AT OWN RISK. (I almost didn't post this, but decided to, anyway.)





	1. Chapter 1

Draco is gorgeous, free of his old life, free to be whoever and whatever he wants, and he has, apparently, decided that what he is, is absolutely gorgeous.

Harry almost feels like he oughtn’t look, he hasn’t got the right, not with all the bad blood between them. Yet, Draco saunters over to him and offers a rainbow-fingered hand, whispering as he  _ strides _ in his heels, not hiding his scars. Being bold and proud. Harry wishes to be as brave. 

‘Care to dance,  _ Harry _ ?’

A challenge, then.

He accepts, more than the dance, even if he doesn’t know it then.


	2. Boots

‘Boots?’ Harry asks, mouth dry, his eyes wandering.

Draco  _ flexes  _ his leg, a leg with only a boot on it, much like on his right leg. His legs are nice legs, to begin with, but there is something absolutely thrilling in them being in those black green-stained leather boots laced all the way up to his knees…

... because the boots are all Draco’s wearing

Harry meets Draco’s eyes and whimpers.

‘Do you like them?’ Draco asks, promise and pleasure in his tone.

Breathless. ‘Yes.’

Draco walks to where he is, heels clicking, hips swaying, leans in. ‘Show me how much.’


	3. nothing, but to feel

Sometimes they take each other biting, gasping, snarling, breathless with the ghosts of their pasts, needing nothing but to  _ feel _ , to take, be taken, to come and sob and shiver.

There are bruises, but they are nothing with the scars they have, both.

And bruises are soon mended, as are aching joints and kiss-bitten lips, with a few choice spells and a nice long soak.

In the aftermath, they talk, put into words that, which they couldn’t before, hashing it out to disturb no more.

They always say, ‘We won’t do that again’, and yet they will, because they are Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter and sometimes it’s all they can  _ do _ .


	4. Stay alive!

After the battle, Draco Malfoy, of all people, stalks up to him, in the middle of a conversation Harry forgets right away, as his once-nemesis takes hold of his shirt, pulls, and kisses him so forcefully that Harry forgets any coherent thought he’s had in his head.

It’s a hard desperate kiss, and quite unlike any kiss Harry’s ever had, before, on top of it being Draco Malfoy kissing him.

It’s also over too quick, Draco wrenches himself away, a haunted look in his eyes. ‘Stay alive!’ He blurts, before stalking off.

Harry’s never been more confused in his life.


	5. linger

Some mornings they just  _ linger _ , stay in bed until they feel like getting up, nearer to lunch-time than breakfast, wrapped in each other, lazy and indulgent.

Harry keeps petting Draco’s hair, softly, Draco melting under his touch like a cat, almost purring, and pressing against his side, sighing.

Each of them suggest that they get up, but neither makes a definitive decision to do so.

A magicked breakfast, filling but not nutritious, is a price paid for a lazy morning, but they make it up at lunch. They are young, they can have one bad breakfast every now and then.


	6. talking about...

‘Harry?’

‘Hmm…’

‘Do you ever think about having children with me?’

Harry stopped short, looked at Draco, frowned; the magical world had surprised him time and again, part of him was convinced that Draco was going to tell him he was pregnant despite everything Harry had thought he knew about biology.

Honesty was his only reply, because Draco  _ would _ know. ‘No.’ Because he hadn’t.

‘Well, I have. I think we could… have some.’

‘Are you trying to tell me you’re pregnant?’ Harry had to ask.

‘I’m talking about adoption.’

‘Oh. Sounds good.’

The rest wasn’t as easy, but worth it.


	7. theirs alone

They look at the little house,  _ their house,  _ a house neither has lived in, yet, a house with no memories but good, a house they can make a  _ home  _ and not shy at shadows of the past. A house with a garden, empty rooms to be filled, a house with a past, but not either of theirs.

Harry has the key's, hands them to Draco, kisses his brow. 'You unlock.'

Draco does, thinking how strange it is that he somehow  _ knows  _ that he'll be happy here, with Harry, and their future, which is theirs and theirs alone.

Now and forever.

  
  



	8. constellations of love

She’s both of them, with her black wild hair and stunning grey-eyes, though no blood is shared between the three of them. But they had found her, and — more importantly — she them, to be  _ their _ daughter and them  _ her _ parents, which matters more than blood.

Because she is absolutely cherished, given the unconditional love Harry can’t remember having (though he knows he got) and the childhood freedom Draco never got, even if his mother loved him fiercely, still does.

They’re all the lucky ones, being  _ family _ , and the future is bright like the constellation of her name: Cassiopeia.


	9. for the rest of my days

‘I do,’ Draco said, ‘I will,’ he affirmed, ‘for the rest of my days,’ he promised.

Magic welded them inseparably together.

There was no way out now, save death, for either of them, and the one who remained would have an ache, like a missing limb, for the rest of their days, a yearning for forever-spent yesterdays and no new tomorrows.

Harry smiled at him.

In a rush, Draco wished that Harry would die first, just so he wouldn’t have to mourn.Then he grasped the now with both hands and kissed Harry, deep, hard and long.

The future beckoned.


	10. nothing whole again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: ZOMBIE-AU AHEAD. READ AT OWN RISK. (I almost didn't post this, but decided to, anyway.)

Draco pressed, trying to hold together that which couldn’t be made whole again, fingers bloody and slipping.

‘No...’ he gasped, feeling like he couldn’t breathe.

Death moved in the periphery of his vision, but nothing mattered now or would ever matter again, not with Harry dead in his arms.

‘Fucking Potter, I was gone for a second…’

There was a promise made, a vow made, and yet… He knew there was no spell to bring back the dead with personality intact, yet his hand ached for his wand.

Death moved, hulking and groaning, and Draco closed his eyes.

‘I’m sorry.’


	11. tighter

‘Tighter,’ Draco gasped. 

Harry worries his lip, watching the sharp shoulder-blades heaving above the decoratively cut edge of the black leather-corset, already tight enough as is. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Would I tell you to tighten it if I wasn’t?’

Draco sounds breathless and irate, the latter is why Harry complies.

‘Good?’

‘Good,’ Draco doesn’t sound strained.

Harry ties off the laces, finishing with a bow, sneaking a lingering grope of Draco arse.

Draco made a disgruntled sound.

‘You should have put on bottoms,’ Harry opines, still fondling the bare ass-cheeks in his grasp.

‘Maybe I forgot.’

‘Maybe you didn’t.’

‘...maybe.’


	12. every day

They were at the back garden, spread out on a blanket, looking up at the night sky. 

‘Do you miss them?’ Draco asked, the perfect thing being that he didn’t need to specify... or maybe it was just sad.

‘Every day,’ Harry replied, and his voice wasn’t even, but he didn’t care.

Draco’s fingers squeezed his own and Harry knew his loss, felt the prize he had paid. ‘Me too.’

The stars above blinked, fixed and almost eternal from their mortal stand-point.

Suddenly, Harry had to look, afraid Draco was just a product of his imagination, but he was there, solid if not fully whole, and he loved Harry. It was enough for now.

  
  
  
  



	13. as long as it's you

‘Top or bottom?’ Mal--  _ Draco _ asked, breathless, interrupting the kiss, Harry’s lips chasing his, because he was nowhere near finished kissing him, maybe never would be, and decidedly not for the night.

Harry’s brain screeched to a panting halt when the words registered and he stared, gaping, then the answer came, easy as breathing. ‘Either. Fuck. As long as it’s you.’ His hands were already ripping at clothes.

He felt the grin as Draco kissed him. ‘I thought you’d say that.’ His hands were mirroring Harry’s.

Harry got to have both before the night was out, loving every fucking minute.


	14. yearning

Harry feels chilled when his fingers pass through Draco’s solid-looking body and his heart skips a beat. It can’t be.  _ Not allowed _ . ‘You’re…’

The ghostly lips curl into a familiar sneer. ‘A ghost?Tell me something I don’t already know, Potter.’

He swallows. ‘But how?’

‘I’d prefer not to discuss my death, thank you..’

Harry aches to touch, yearns for lost chances, things that never will be, now.

‘You can’t be  _ dead _ …’

‘Yet I am, and you can do nothing about it.’ And there’s yearning in Draco’s voice, too, and his expression.

‘Watch me.’ He’s due a miracle, isn’t he? 


	15. bad night

It’s a bad night.

Draco shies away from Harry’s touch as he reaches, woken by screaming nightmares petering into gasping broken murmurs. Draco’s memories are trapping him, making his words half-sobs, which are yet clearly expressions of utter terror.

Harry murmurs a soothing-charm under his breath, letting it wrap around Draco’s curled up, touch-averse body, like the arms Harry wishes he could offer.

Draco’s breath hitches and Harry goes to make tea, as Draco slowly begins to unwind and wake, sleeping is over for the night.

They  _ will _ get to good nights outnumbering the bad ones, eventually, just not tonight.


	16. besotted

Draco was leading Harry through the intricate steps of their wedding dance and Harry had never been happier, even of the small scowls marring Draco’s face when he didn’t manage a turn just so.

They were married and there was no breaking them apart.

_ They had made it _ .

Happiness was something Harry had so often thought they’d not get to have and here Draco still was, putting up with him even when he couldn’t really dance, even when all he seemed capable of was staring at Draco, besotted.

He hoped with every fiber of his being that they would last.


	17. hope of maybe

'...a nursery,' Draco said, numb, choking a little at the perfectly put-together room the House had provided them with. He had never thought the House could be cruel like this.

Harry's hand was assurance on his shoulder, a solid comfort, a tethering thereness. 'I'm sorry.'

He couldn’t look away. 'What for? _You_ didn't dream this into existence.'

'But maybe I did..’

His magic-inflicted scars ached and he _wouldn’t_ cry. '...you'd never hurt me like this.'

'We could always adopt. If… couldn't we?'

And then Draco couldn't see for his overflowing tears, giving in to the bitter-sweet aching hope of _maybe_.


	18. oh-so-bright

‘I can’t erase my past, you know,’ Draco said, on the brink of future — shining and hesitant — a terrible yearning on his face.

Harry reached and grasped his hand, deciding that he was brave, for Draco, and himself,  _ for them _ . ‘The past can go fuck itself, as far as I’m concerned. I’m more interested in the future.’ That shining, just at their fingertips thing, a path needing to be followed, eager feet and all.

Draco chuckled wetly, yearning bleeding into hope, jubilant amusement. ‘Are you now?’

‘Yes.’

And Harry kissed him to seal the future, which was oh-so-bright.


	19. contentedness

She’s still Draco Malfoy — pretty, infuriating, loyal — but she isn’t the Malfoy Heir any longer, not to a father who refuses to admit he always had a daughter.

To Harry, she’s much the same, she was always  _ her  _ on the inside even when she couldn’t be it outside, even when her body was wrong. Now she is who she always was, grabbing her freedom with both hands after the War.

If anything’s changed most, it’s that she’s finally content in herself, happy with it.

Together they’ll face anyone who dares to say Draco shouldn’t have achieved that contentedness.


	20. how did you like it?

’Well, how did you like it?’ Draco asked, leaning onto his arm, completely and utterly well-fucked, looking exactly like the cat who got the cream.

In this instance, the cream had been Harry, who’s entire world-view seemed to have shifted in the last… however long it taken for Draco to completely unscramble him and then put him back together not quite as he’d been.

Harry had to kiss him, there was nothing to it. ‘I liked it,’ he told Draco when he had to breathe, or perish.

Draco rolled him over, kissing, ready to give _more_.

Harry liked that too.


	21. brink of enough

Breath punches out of Draco at the not-unexpected _fulness_ of Harry’s curled hand in him, deep to the wrist, stilled on the brink of _enough_ and still leaving Draco wanting.

‘Good?’ Harry asks, sounding somehow far away.

Draco searches for words, even when all will lack in the description of this, his willingness to be this vulnerable for Harry, this new way of Harry filling him. Some sound not quite a word comes from Draco’s mouth. he swallows. Find his word. _‘Yes…’_

‘Gonna wiggle it a bit now.’

He does.

Draco lets go of everything, sinks into punch-drunk pleasure, safe.


	22. too deep

Harry comes home late. He never forgives himself for that, nor over his inattentiveness. He had been too positive, too wrapped up in the good things shared between them, blinding himself to the bad. He should have known better.

He can’t breathe, mind running through all the spells he knows as he kneels there, the knees of his jeans growing sticky-cold with blood where he’s dropped down.

If there’re words for this moment, he cannot find them.

He can’t look away from the bloody ruin of Draco’s Dark Mark, cut away too deep.

Draco _breathes_ and Harry finds his words.


	23. a good day

Morning sun makes Draco’s body a dark abyss next to the window, and Harry blinks at the brightness spilling over to the bed, right until Draco lets go of the curtains and saunters back to him.

‘You’re awake,’ Draco states, once he’s kissed Harry into more of an awareness, rolled with him, morning-eager and sticky and rendered them both gloriously _spent_.

‘You think I’d miss that?’ Harry says, still yawning a little, thoroughly pleased with the brilliant start to their day, ‘morning, you.’

‘Morning.’

Harry kisses him some more, Draco giggles, they fall out of bed.

It’s a good day.


	24. urge

'Don't…' Malfoy said, pressing Harry hard against a corridor wall, 'Just  _ don't. _ '

'Don't what?' Harry asked, trying to fight his urge to kiss Malfoy, which he'd been thinking about since September when they'd both come back to Hogwarts; one from necessity, the other because Hogwarts was the only home he knew, still.

'Look at me like you'd kiss me if I let you.'

And Malfoy was looking at his lips, too.

'What if I want exactly that?'

'You shouldn't…'

'Can I?'

' _ Yes,  _ but…'

But Harry was already kissing him, eager and ready for it, they could think later, much later.


	25. well worth it

‘Don’t you think we’re getting too old for this, Malfoy? Quit fucking with me!’ Harry whisper-hissed, pressing the man to a wall.

‘If only you would…’ was not meant for Harry’s ears, clearly, but ‘I’m not old, Potter,’ was. And Malfoy was all challenge with both statements, wasn’t he?

Fuck.

‘I just… can you stop flirting if you don’t intend to  _ do  _ anything about it?’

Malfoy grinned, suddenly very close, mingling-breath close, kissing-close. ‘Who says I won’t?’ Then he kissed Harry.

It was scandal, of course, them found shagging in the middle of a Ministry do, but well worth it.


	26. date me anyway

‘I don’t want him to be another “what-if,’ Harry said.

Ginny looked at him, nodded. ‘I get it. We’re both different people now. But always friends?’

‘No,’ he said. Her face fell. ‘Family.’

She hugged him hard..

*

Harry cornered one Draco Malfoy on a lazy Saturday afternoon in Hyde Park, of all places. ‘We should date,’ he said.

‘What?’ Draco said.

‘We should date.’

‘Have you lost your mind?’

‘No. But you can’t deny there’s always been… something.’

‘You’re absolutely mad.’

‘Date me anyway?’

‘Kiss me first. prat.’

*

They were together for the rest of forever, and it was good.

  
  



End file.
